And She Shall Bring the Day
by Sardonic Kender Smile
Summary: Micaiah, do you ever feel...different?" Daein's King has never been a confident man--he can feel his ineptitude hanging over him, dark as night...so he confides to the Maiden of Dawn, because she is his light. Because she shall bring the day.


_A/N: Oh look, another one. I need to invest in plotbunny traps. (For the record...although there are other genres for this oneshot--such as hurt/comfort, or friendship--I ultimately decided on angst/romance. The angst is because...we'll get to that. And the romance is because Pelleas totally digs Micaiah. It's obvious. Nintendo can't hide it.) Anyway…I wrote this one because I was sick of feeling…different. You'll see what I mean, unless you already know. _

_Well, it seems that those feelings got taken out on Pelleas xD. I supposed that if anyone had to feel so insecure, it would be him…he is SO adorably awkward. And…so very tragic…okay, well, on with the oneshot._

_**And She Shall Bring the Day**_

Pelleas stood in the doorway, an arch made of marble as white as snow. A vast balcony of the same stone stretched before him, providing a beautiful view of the gardens of his palace—which were filled with dark, tiny plants, all that could sustain themselves in Daein's harsh and snowy climes. He leaned against the arch with one hand, trying to muster up the courage to speak…but the words turned into air the moment they reached his tongue, and he could not set them free. He could only stand there and stare at the figure on the other end of the balcony…

…_Her._

It was ironic, he couldn't help but notice, to see the Maiden of Dawn surrounded by dusk. Night was falling, the sun was gone…and she, supposedly the embodiment of the first glorious rays of morning…was now shrouded in the first sinister shadows of the night. But the sight was not one of foreboding…no, it was one of hope.

Pelleas smiled as he gazed at her. _Morning always follows night. Even if it is evening now…even if the sun has left…she is still here. And she shall bring the day again, bring light into Daein…just as she has brought light into my life._

She was everything to him. She had secured him on his throne. She had liberated his country. She was his general, his advisor, his confidant, his best friend in the world. She was wise. She was kind. She was strong. She was brave. She was all that he wanted to be, all that he searched himself for in hopes of finding. She was…

"Micaiah."

_She shall bring the day again…_

She turned at the sound of his voice, silver hair sparkling as it flew out behind her, golden eyes fixing him with a look of surprise…before that melted into an expression of recognition and joy.

"King Pelleas!"

Pelleas let go of the doorpost—he hadn't realized he'd been gripping it so tightly—and walked towards her with a hesitant smile. "Hello…I…I hope you don't mind that I walked right into your bedroom…I knocked, but nobody answered, so I peeked inside to find that you had come out here…"

"Oh, I must not have heard you. I am sorry." One of her hands wandered up and gripped the material of her shirt, near her collar—a nervous habit. "Do you need something, Pelleas?"

"Just…I just…I wanted to talk to you," he finally blurted out, fighting back a blush. It was very, very easy to talk to Micaiah…no matter how idiotic he sounded, she never laughed--she just kept urging him onwards with her gentle eyes and forgiving smile. Yet…despite how comfortable he felt with her, or perhaps because of it…he never ended up being very eloquent. He was grateful that she always understood him, no matter how badly he phrased himself.

_She shall bring the day again…_

Those wondrous eyes of hers filled with concern. "Is something wrong?"

_Wrong. _Why, if anything was wrong around here, it was him. He chuckled bitterly as he settled his hands on the smooth, white railing of the balcony and stared out across the grounds. His breath was visible, pale and wispy puffs that distracted him from the view. "Micaiah…may I ask you a question?"

"Of course," she told him, her hand lighting supportively upon his shoulder. He shuddered slightly at her touch—it never failed to electrify him. Whether she was giving his fingers a friendly squeeze, or brushing back a strand of his notoriously unruly hair before he had to appear before the public, or—like now—simply resting a hand on his shoulder, he was always able to feel her touch long after she had gone.

Micaiah seemed to sense his shiver, and asked, "What is the matter, Pelleas?"

He wasn't sure how to phrase his question. He did not look at her, but back to the horizon—or where it would have been, if mountains hadn't been in the way. "Micaiah, do you ever feel…different?"

"What do you mean?"

Pelleas tightened his grip on the balcony. _This is so hard to explain! _"I mean…do you ever feel…like you are not the same as everybody else? I know that everyone is different, but…do you ever feel _more _so? More than you should?"

"Pelleas…" Her hand felt firmer on his shoulder, her eyes more intense upon his own as he turned to look at her. He couldn't bear the power of that gaze. He had to turn away again.

"No, I…I mean…do you feel like an island when you stand in a crowd? Do you feel as if everyone in the world has this certain _normalcy _about them, something they were born with, something that tells them how to speak and how to look and…how to move as if they are comfortable in their own bodies? Do you ever feel like you have been born without that?"

"I—" Micaiah tried to speak again, but he was too caught up in himself—his friends assumed, _everyone _assumed that he was a passive and meek person, but sometimes there was a passion that grew within him that he simply could not stop!

"Do you ever just _feel _different? Do you feel that in something beyond personality or physical appearance, something in your very _core _separates you from everybody else? And everyone can sense it? You just…don't fit!" He smashed his fist against the railing in frustration. "Something about you is just _wrong_, and everybody knows it, but there's nothing you can do about it because it's just how you are!"

"Pelleas," Micaiah whispered again, gently. "I…I _do _know how you feel. I _do _feel…different." Her fingers left his shoulder, brushing lightly down his arm before she clasped her hands in front of her.

"But _how_?" Pelleas asked desperately, rounding on her, finally meeting her eyes. "You don't look out of place…ever! The people love you! The soldiers respect you! You're always so _graceful_, so…" He broke off, dropping his gaze miserably to the floor. "Oh, Micaiah…how could you possibly feel like you do not belong?"

"I have a lot of reasons," she told him softly. "King Pelleas…I'm stranger than you could ever imagine."

He smiled slightly. "Is this because of your Spirit Charmer Mark?"

"Er…" Micaiah's shoulders tensed, rising to her ears—Pelleas noticed her rubbing her marked hand as if it burned her. "Y-yes…there's…that…"

"Is there something else?" he asked softly.

Micaiah chuckled wryly. "Well…you know me--I can see visions of the future! You can spot my hair from a mile away! I talk to a _bird_!"

"Yune is a very intelligent bird." Daein's King was always trying to be diplomatic.

Micaiah looked his way and smiled—Ashera, how he _loved _her smile! "Pelleas…you must understand. I know exactly how you feel. Sometimes…I just can't believe that so many people look up to me. I don't know why they do."

_She shall bring the day again…_

"It's because you're beautiful!" Pelleas exclaimed, the words slipping out far before he had a chance to stop them.

Micaiah gave a start, her golden eyes flying open. "W-what?"

_Uhg! My words came out wrong again! _Pelleas bit his lip, immediately flushing crimson. "N-no, not like that…I-I mean…well, it's not that you _aren't_, because you truly are, but—"

"That's hardly a good reason for people to follow me," Micaiah retorted with a frown.

"No, n-no, I-I know that! What I meant was--!" Pelleas broke off, desperately trying to think of a way to explain it to her—how could he tell her that her beauty was something as internal as it was physical? Her bravery and strength, her gentleness and good cheer, her peerless compassion…he could see her heart, and it was _so _breathtaking. _That _was why people followed her.

"Look," Pelleas said finally. He stared deeply into her startled, sun-colored eyes, and made sure that she was listening to him very carefully. "Micaiah…you are beautiful."

Then, as her expression grew steadily more flustered, he slowly and deliberately shut his eyes so that he could not see her anymore.

"And now…" he murmured with a smile, "you're _still _beautiful. Am I…making any sense?"

He felt a hand against his cheek and his eyes snapped open…to find Micaiah gazing fondly into them. Her own eyes were so warm…Pelleas felt that he could stare into them forever and ever, until he was hopelessly lost and could never find his way back. He wouldn't have minded such a prospect.

"Oh, my dear friend," she whispered back, "You've made perfect sense. And I feel the same way about you."

The hand on his cheek trailed down until it was resting on his chest—right above his heart. Pelleas forgot how to breathe.

_And she shall bring the day again…_

"No matter how hesitant or unsure you seem," she confided to him quietly, "I know that deep within you lies a man who is brave and determined and selfless. I know that you want only what is best for Daein. I know that you shall make a wonderful king."

Pelleas blinked back tears as she gave him another of her soothing, golden smiles. "Your Majesty…please. Don't ever worry about being different."

"Once more, Micaiah, you have assuaged my fears." Pelleas sighed and covered the hand on his chest with his own hand. "I am glad to know that I am not the only one to ever feel so out-of-place. Yet…now, I still cannot help but be saddened to know that it is _you _who shares this feeling with me."

"Why is that?" Micaiah asked, cocking her head to the side.

Pelleas sighed. "Being different…it's very…lonely."

The Maiden of Dawn's other hand slid up the side of his face, gently stroking his cheek. "We're not alone. You have me, Pelleas. I support you…I believe in you. I shall be here for you, whenever you need me…forever."

Those words, that promise, flooded Pelleas with a relief and a joy so strong that he feared he would fall to his knees. He reached out and pulled Micaiah into a tight embrace, clutching her to him desperately, burying his face in her famous silver hair…

"Hey," a quiet voice snapped from the doorway.

Pelleas jumped a foot into the air and quickly released Micaiah, backing away from her. Sothe stood there beneath the arch, leaning against it with his arms folded.

"Your Majesty," he began, clearly not meaning his words as a sign of respect, "What do you think you're doing in Micaiah's bedroom?"

Pelleas gulped. "I-I-I d-don't…I w-wasn't…oh! I-I'm…"

Micaiah simply laughed, chiding her companion, "Oh, Sothe, leave him alone…you're a fine one to talk! You just barged in here, too!"

The rogue frowned deeply, sending an angry glance in Pelleas' direction. The king paled. "Micaiah, Nolan and Leonardo want to talk to you."

"Oh…alright…" Micaiah turned once more to Pelleas. She took his hand and squeezed it in a silent farewell before allowing Sothe to take her other hand and lead her off of the balcony and out of sight. Sothe glared at Pelleas once more before the two disappeared completely from view.

The king sighed and leaned against the marble railing, staring out into the twilight sky.

_And she shall bring the day again…_

_Even if…night is falling…_

* * *

_A/N: Ahh, Daein's King, knowing his price, feeling the doom inching towards them all…yay symbolism! I figured a story with Pelleas would need some of that…after his whole deal…okay, I can't stand it any more! __**Kender is going to rant—caution, contains spoilers! **__Man, that kid was SUCH a pathetic character. I mean, really…he needed help getting his throne back, _Micaiah _was the figurehead of the country instead of him, he had no social skills and no idea about how to be king, he got himself into a blood pact, then he ended up finding an only half-baked plan of how to get himself out of it and ends up being murdered…NEEDLESSLY! I didn't want to kill him, seeing as he had purple hair and all, so I made Tauroneo do it…but it seems that something different happens if you agree for Micaiah to kill him herself? I wish I knew…but anyway. Poor Pelleas…the fate of his character was haunting in its ironic simplicity: all he wanted to do was help, and he ended up dying in order to help people…and guess what? IT DIDN'T HELP AT ALL. _**Okay, I'm done now, you can read again.**

_Haha. Well. Sorry about that...thanks a bunch for checking this out! Any thoughts would be greatly appreciated._


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